


New in Town

by AJissoverytired



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale is an idiot but so is Crowley, F/M, Genderfluid Character, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Librarian Aziraphale (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Other, Pining, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-09-24 19:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20363665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJissoverytired/pseuds/AJissoverytired
Summary: Aziraphale runs a library in a small english town where not much happens. He is, however, quite intrigued by the beautiful person who just came to town. It doesn't help that the stranger likes to frequent his library quite a bit.





	1. Beautiful Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> So I posted this a week or two ago and I hated it so I deleted. I then made some small edits and decided to post it again. So please enjoy!

Aziraphale didn't get much excitement in his life. He kept the library open six days a week, opened exactly at seven every morning, saw the same few townsfolk and a handful of college kids, and then at eight in the evening he would close up and go home. He didn't much like to deviate from this if at all possible. He liked his library. 

Something that Aziraphale observed through the years, is that most everyone carried some quite out dated world views. He had gotten some strange looks (and on one occasion a long rant from an older woman) after he put up a pride flag that read 'All Are Welcome' in his window. But in the end it made his Library much more popular with the younger residents of the town as well as visitors. 

He had only two employees, a lovely young couple, Anathema and Newton, who had become close to family over the years. They had put in applications after he put up the flag, having not felt safe working anywhere else in town. Anathema, an american who was going to the nearby university, had quite a bit of trouble finding work in a primarily Caucasian town, and hoped that he would have a more open mind. Aziraphale hired her immediately, besides her resume was quite impressive. Newton was near to tears in the interview confessing that he was a trans man, and had been called a pervert(Among other strong words) when other potential employers in town found out. Aziraphale didn't even look at his resume and hired him. 

One thing he had also learned living in a small english town, is that when someone new comes round, people will talk. It happened when Aziraphale moved there, you could go out and feel the whispers and side glances of everyone as they try to determine if they'll all like you or if you'll cause trouble. He had been on the inside of that weird judgement bubble when Anathema moved there, but on this particular morning he could feel it in the air as he stepped out to grab the paper. He could see it in the faces of his neighbors as he walked to the bakery. And as he opened up the doors to his library, he could hear Anathema and Newton whispering behind him. Throughout the day he could still feel the change from his patrons, little whispers about a stranger with red hair. 

During his lunch break, Newton cornered him while he was eating lunch, babbling about the newcomer. 

"-And I've heard that they walk strange, and they drive some sweet vintage car-," Newton went on. 

"Wait hold on, why do you care?" Aziraphale asked around a mouthful of chicken Marsala.

"Oh you aren't even a little curious about them?" Newton was gesturing weird, which meant he wasn't saying what he was thinking.

"No. Not even a little bit." He shoveled the last of his lunch into his mouth, and put away his tupperware. "Now, I am absolutely sure I asked you to re-shelve those true crime books."

"Well yes, but Ana had already done it and the new person had come by so I thought you might be curious about-," 

"Newton, I am not interested. It's that time again and I have so much to do, so if you could just watch the front desk for me," Aziraphale walked away, already mentally preparing his mind for the task ahead. 

You see, Aziraphale had a large collection of rare first edition books that required maintenance once a month, something he both loved and absolutely despised. He loved unlocking the glass display and gently pulling them out, getting to smell the rich scent of old paper, and being able to run his (very much gloved) finger tips along the old leather binding. He absolutely despised having to dust, sew, clean, and make other tiny restorations. As tedious as it was, few things compared to looking at those books once they were put back in there display. 

He pulled out his keys to unlock the display case that sat at the front of the library, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder only for his gaze to be met with dark sunglasses and bright red hair. A glance down and he found the stranger wearing a dark grey top that was unbuttoned down to their sternum, the tightest black jeans he'd ever seen, and red velvet stilettos. No wonder everyone was so curious about them.

"oh, hello!" Aziraphale greeted with a smile. "Can I help you with something?" 

"Uh, yes," The stranger began to smile. "I well- I need whatever books you have on diseases that affected the celts during the twelfth through the eighteenth century." They ran a hand through their hair. 

"Yes, let me see," Aziraphale said, relocking the glass door, and walking away from the display to guide the stranger through the shelves. He went to the filing cupboard, and started opening drawers and looking through the cards. 

"I'm-a Crowley," The Stranger- Crowley said. "Just by the way." They shuffled from one foot to the other. "I uh just moved here." 

"Oh yes," Aziraphale hummed. "I've noticed. Everyone has been talking about you," He pulled out two cards, slammed the drawer shut, and then opened another one. 

"Really? What's being said about me?" Crowley asked, a smile in their voice. 

"Well, Mister Shadwell, the man who runs the military surplus store on my walk over here, he thinks you are some kind of devil worshiper." Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Oh and my neighbor mentioned something about someone trying to open up a brothel," He opened another drawer. "And one of my librarians thinks you are some weird ethereal thing. You should hear what he was telling me earlier."

"Oh so just the facts then," Crowley laughed. "People round here sure do like to talk. I've barely just moved." 

"Well, yes, small town. Everyone likes to gossip." Aziraphale stood up. "And you don't exactly look like the ideal citizen."

"Ideal citizen?" They raised their eyebrows. 

"Oh you know, prim, proper, and completely without any opinions of your own. Doesn't dress outside the binary." 

"I thought this was a more inclusive space?" Crowley was no longer smiling. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that I care about the gender binary, but not fitting into it makes people talk around here. I certainly got my fair share of it when I moved here." Aziraphale started to walk away before Crowley could respond. Although he made sure to listen to make sure they were following him. He led them to the front desk where Anathema was scribbling something down in a notebook. "Ana dear, would you mind helping Crowley find these titles for me?" 

"Of course!" She said with a smile. And Aziraphale was able to go back to his display. 

\- 

It was a cold Tuesday morning, nearly a week after meeting Crowley, when he poured some tea into a travel mug and headed towards his library. He was a little more curious about this Crowley than he had been before they met, if he was being honest, but if anyone asked he was above the gossip. 

Of course being above the gossip didn't mean he wouldn't listen in when he heard Madame Tracy at the bakery talking about a man who wore high heels. He also had open ears when Mister Shadwell complained about an the ugly woman who wore sunglasses at all hours of the day, how she was a cruel temptress, you could see it in the way she walks. 

Being above the gossip also did not mean he would stare a little too long as Crowley walked on the other side of the street every morning. Or, on Aziraphale's day off, ducking his head and listening in as Crowley charmed the young lady working the register at the deli. He was just curious. That was all. 

It was on Aziraphale's lunch break that Crowley came in again, wearing ripped jeans and a black trench coat with a golden snake design that ran along one sleeve, hair tied up in a bun. They sauntered past the front desk and looked around as if looking for someone. Aziraphale just stared from behind the break room door, swallowing the food in his mouth, and watching. He was just curious. Nothing else. 

Newton appeared from behind one of the shelves, greeting Crowley with a smile, and after a brief exchange of words they moved out of his line of sight. Aziraphale sighed and decided to finish his lunch. He was being too nosy. But something about Crowley made him want to know everything about them. With a sigh, he set aside his tupperware container and left the room to get back to work. 

He had a lot of paperwork to sort through, and a few phone calls to make, so he sat down and started to work. Three phone calls later, after he had just finished telling a young lady that she needed to bring back the three graphic novels that were overdue by a week and a half, he heard a tapping on his desk. He looked up to meet sunglasses and a smile. 

"I'd like to check out please." Crowley smiled and placed a stack of books on the desk. 

"Yes, of course," Aziraphale set aside the papers in front of him and pushed aside the telephone. "Let's see," He looked at the books. They were all Indian cookbooks. "Fan of Indian food, then?" He asked as he pulled out the cards from the front covers. 

"Ah-mm-wel-y-yes, and I'd love to learn how to cook," Crowley said as if completely unready for that question. "I didn't get your name the last time I was here," Aziraphale looked up at that. 

"Wha- Oh yes, terribly sorry. I'm Aziraphale." 

"Rather unusual name, Aziraphale," 

"Well I had very unusual parents-," 

"Is it religious? Like an angelic name?" Crowley asked, a little smirk forming at the corner of their lips. "You know like how the suffix el means 'of god'. Daniel, Michael, Raphael, Gabriel," 

"Yes actually! Surprised you knew. My parents were extremely religious. Not something most pick up on." 

"Well you certainly look the part. Of an angel I mean." 

"Oh thank you," Aziraphale could feel himself turn a little pink. He returned his eyes to his task. "Alrighty then. These are all yours for the next two weeks. If they are overdue there is a fee of twelve cents a day until they are returned." 

"Aye Aye Captain," Crowley says to him. "Do you like Indian food? Because I-," 

"Aziraphale?" Anathema appeared behind her boss holding a small stack of books."Excuse me, sorry," She nodded to Crowley before turning back to her boss. "These just arrived and Newton normally catalog's new books, but he had to leave a few moments ago for a doctor's appointment, and I know you told me how, but I don't remember. When you're done here could you-," 

"Of course my dear, I'm so sorry." He handed Crowley their books, and looked directly into the lenses of their glasses, all warmth leaving his face. "two weeks. Not a day later. Understood?" That voice had terrified most, but Crowley just smiled real wide. 

"Wouldn't even dream of it, Misster Aziraphale," They pulled the books into their arms and sauntered away. Aziraphale couldn't stop watching. That walk. Jesus Christ. 

"Aziraphale, I need to catalog these." 

_ 

It was quite early on his day off, but he couldn't sleep in, so Aziraphale waited patiently in line to order his two blueberry muffins at the bakery, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around only to see Crowley smiling at him. 

"Hello Aziraphale!" They greeted. "Fancy seeing you here," 

"Well there is only around three hundred people living here, and it's the only bakery around so the chances were high," Aziraphale replied with a cheeky smile. "How are you enjo-,"

"Next!" The cashier called to him before he could finish. 

"Good morning, I'd like two blueberry muffins, please," 

"Yeah and I'd like a chocolate croissant, thank you," Crowley said as they slid in front of Aziraphale. They pulled out their wallet before he could even get a word in. "This should be enough, keep the change." 

"That was very kind of you to do, but I should pay you back," Aziraphale said as Crowley took the two bags of food from the cashier. 

"No need, pretty thing like you deserves it," Crowley handed him his muffins and left without another word, leaving the poor Aziraphale speechless. 

_ 

Aziraphale was listening to Mister Shadwell describe his colonoscopy in great detail(How they got to this is unknown, as Shadwell had come into the library asking for books on the occult) when out of the corner of his eye he could see Anathema talking to Crowley. Crowley must have said something funny because they were both laughing. Anathema pulled off her glasses to wipe a tear from her cheek before replacing them. Soon they were walking out of his line of sight, and he starting listening to what Shadwell was saying again. 

"- So he tells me that I have some 'suspicious polyps' in my lower intestine. Which is code for 'Come back in for more tests so I can make more money. I told him where he could stick those polyps!" Shadwell went on, seeming proud of himself. "And he tried to use fancy words ta convince me, all kinds of mumbo jumbo-," Aziraphale felt a little silly as he caught the eye of Crowley walking past him, and he felt sillier when his stomach twisted at the sight of them smiling and waving at him. 

_ 

"I would like you to help me find some works by these authors," Crowley asked as they pulled out some crumpled paper from their pocket to hand to Aziraphale. 

"Well, let's see," He replied as he took the piece of paper from his pocket and started to smooth it out. "These are all authors of children's books! Why would you want them?" 

"Oh, well-yes-pff- I am of the opinion that you can learn a lot from children's stories. They have to fit good themes and well written story lines into something simple and easy to understand. I think that is beautiful." Aziraphale could hear his own heartbeat, and suddenly his mouth had gone dry. 

"Well said. Follow me." 

_ 

Another three weeks had past, November was coming to a close, and this particular morning had been very very rainy. Aziraphale turned up the thermostat as soon he walked into his library, bouncing on his feet to get the blood flowing. He also lit the fireplace, something he rarily did for everyone's safety as Newt couldn't be trusted near an open flame. Anathema and Newt weren't coming in for the next few days, Aziraphale insisted on it, as they had a bunch of exams coming up and they needed to study. No one really came in when the weather was like this, so he had plenty of time to work on the more tedious parts of the job. 

He settled down with a steaming cup of cocoa, and looked began to write up a to-do list of things to get done while the weather was so mucky. He had some budgetary things to take care of, he needed to look at the card catalog and make sure Newton put everything back correctly, he should probably clean the bathroom at some point, and the shelves always need dusting- 

The door swung open, a cold breeze sweeping through the building, and with it a very distressed Crowley. They were shivering underneath their trenchcoat, bright red hair weighed down by the rain, and a big frown. 

"Aziraphale?" They called into the library. A bewildered Aziraphale popped up from behind the desk, hair a little frizzier than usual and tartan bow tie crooked, his eyes blinking back drowsiness. 

"Yes? Sorry I've-," He paused to yawn, and avoided eye contact. "-been doing paperwork. Slow day you know," A crack of thunder made them both jump.

"Oh course, um, I was just hoping for a place to escape the cold. The heat doesn't work at mine, so," 

"Well, you are more than welcome to stay all day if you like." Aziraphale had yet to really look at Crowley, who resembled a mangy alley cat at the moment, and Crowley wasn't sure why. They walked over to the desk, dripping all over the carpeting, and leaned over the desk to become eye level with the librarian. They could hear the water dripping off their hair and onto the papers below, and smirked, hoping for a response. "Could you not drip everywhere?" Aziraphale asked with a clipped tone. 

"I was just wondering," Crowley began. "If it hurt?" their face twisted into a sharp grin. "When you fell from heaven?"

"No. Now shoo. You are ruining my papers." Aziraphale looked murderous. The grin slipped off Crowley's face. They stood up straight and started to tie their hair into a messy knot on top of their head. 

"Did I do something? I mean other than coming in here wet, which is not my fault by the way." 

"Well, I run a library." Aziraphale said as he stood out of his chair. "Not a charity. I do not give my books away. They are to be returned within two weeks. That is plenty of time in my opinion, and yet you have seven books on loan and have not returned any of them." 

"Oh." 

"Yes, and I have also informed you of the fee. So until I have both my books and my money, I owe you absolutely no courtesies." He walked around the desk and stood tall, looking directly into the (slightly fogged up) sunglasses of Crowley. "You may stay here to escape the weather, but you may not leave with any more of my books." 

"I'm truly sorry. Time got away from me I'm afraid." Crowley pulled out a wallet from their coat pocket. "I can run home and get the books as soon as the rain lets up a little. How much do I owe you?" Aziraphale seemed to soften a little. 

"Two eighty eight." His voice was softer too. "But you don't have to concern yourself with getting them back today. Come by tomorrow and I won't charge you for the extra day." 

"Oh thank you, I really am sorry though. I had been keeping track on my calendar at home but I have been rather busy lately and hadn't been paying attention." 

"It's really alright, and I can't have you going out there and freezing to death. What would the neighbors say?" And there was that cheeky smile again. Crowley returned it with one of relief. 

"Oh I nearly forgot! I brought hot cocoa for you," They gestured to the desk where two paper cups sat. Aziraphale had no clue how he hadn't noticed them. 

"If you got cocoa, why didn't you just stay at the cafe to keep warm?" Aziraphale asked as he tilted his head a little in confusion. 

"Simple. I wouldn't be able to bring you yours." They grabbed one of the cups and offered it to him. He took it, happy that it was still warm. 

"Thank you." He said quietly, but he couldn't hide how shy his smile had gotten. "You're still shivering. I have some blankets in the backroom, find a seat and I will go get them. Oh and let me take that coat to let it dry by the heater so when you leave it will be warm." 

Crowley had settled down on one of the plush sofas that were surrounding a fireplace they hadn't even noticed being there before, and wrapped in a knitted blanket that smelled like a spicy cologne and earl grey. Aziraphale watched from behind a bookshelf, trying to figure out why his throat felt so dry and why did Crowley have to look so beautiful. They pulled down their hair and finger combed the wet curls to get some moisture out, and the sight made it very difficult for Aziraphale to breathe. 

He wanted to comb his fingers through that hair, he wondered if it was soft. That was an absurd thought to have. He took a deep breathe and moved into plain view. 

"Feeling better?" He asked, forcing steadiness into his voice. 

"Yes, much," They replied. Aziraphale walked closer and tried to decide if he should sit or not. 

"would you like something to read?" 

"No thank you, wouldn't want to get your books wet." They teased. "Please sit down, it feels strange to look up at you." Aziraphale gave a nod and sat at the opposite end of the sofa, back straight, hands folded. 

"Can-," Another deep breath. "Can I ask you something rather personal?" 

"I suppose." 

"Why do you always wear sunglasses?" 

"Oh, um-," Crowley visibly tensed. 

"You don't have to answer." 

"Well I have a rare-um-eye-thing." Crowley touched their glasses, as if to make sure they were still there. "My pupils are weird oval shape and they can't contract or dilate properly, so I'm very sensitive to bright lights." They gave a shrug, but it still seemed stiff. "They look like the eyes of a reptile, so a bit scary to look at anyway." They tried to sound lighthearted, but there was an edge of insecurity to their voice. 

"I'm sure they are beautiful," Aziraphale told them. The thought that any part of Crowley could be unsightly was unfathomable to him. Crowley still seemed uncomfortable, so he decided to change the subject. "So Newton and Anathema have taught me quite a lot about queer terminology so if you don't mind my asking, what pronouns do you go by? Again, you don't have to answer, I'm just a little curious." 

"Oh of course, I am genderfluid, so just whatever I'm feeling. They and them generally, but on occasion I don't mind she/her or he/him. I don't really care. My main goal is to confuse everyone who looks at me." They looked quite proud of them self. "Why settle for one when you can have all of them. What about you? What do you prefer?" 

"I don't really care, if I'm honest. I am just me. I don't particularly feel one way or the other, I feel like Aziraphale." He gave a little shrug. "I like bow ties and suits so that is what I wear, and most people just think of my as a man, but it doesn't really matter to me."

"Well the look certainly suits you that's for sure." 

"Why thank you." Aziraphale seemed a little more relaxed now. "now you said you your preferences change from day to day. What about today?" 

"Hmm- w-I- uh I suppose I wouldn't mind being a he today. If anything changes I'll let you know," He was giving Aziraphale the sweetest grin he'd ever seen, and damn he should put out the fire because it was getting a little warm in here. 

_ 

The next day the rain had slowed to a constant drizzle, Aziraphale was still alone, and he had spent the entire morning cataloging some new books. He was nearly ready for lunch, when he hear the door open, the clacking of stilettos, a stack of books being placed in front of him, and the creak of leather as someone leaned over the desk to become eye level with him. 

"Hello, how was heaven when you left it?" Crowley asked, smirk evident in their voice. Aziraphale finally looked up. 

"Oh, a little too warm for my taste, so I had to return to this lovely-," He gestured to the window. "Mire." If anyone had been around they would describe the two as looking quite fond of each other. 

"well I brought my books back," Crowley remarked. 

"You certainly did. Thank you, Crowley." 

"I am really sorry, Aziraphale, it won't happen again." 

"I know it won't. All is forgiven," 

"So you close at eight? Do you have dinner plans?" Crowley was looking somewhere to the left of Aziraphale. 

"Yes actually, I have some takeout in the fridge in the back." Aziraphale told him. 

"Oh, I see," Crowley backed up a bit, looking down. "Well, I have some work to do, I'll leave you to it." 

"Crowley, be careful, okay? I don't want you to freeze to death." 

_ 

"I think I should be able to open mine first, seeing as I'm the one holding this entire establishment together." Anathema announced as she pulled her gifts into her lap. Newt gave her a fond look, and Aziraphale laughed and nodded. 

"Of course, but you have to open mine before his," Aziraphale leaned a little closer. "Or you're both fired," Anathema simply rolled her eyes and began to rip the paper off her gift. She gasped as she pulled out a leather bound guide to the occult. "Happy Christmas, Dear." 

"Thank you so much! I don't even know what to say," She told him, her eyes wide behind her glasses. She ran her fingers along the golden letters. "Seriously thank you so much." 

"Alright, next one," Newt said as he handed her a box sloppily wrapped in newspaper. "Happy Christmas, Ana," 

"Yes sir," She laughed as she set the book down and grabbed the box. It was very small and made no sound when she shook it repeatedly. 

"Oh come on, get it over with!" Newt prompted good naturedly. 

"Fine then," She made quick work of the newspaper to reveal a tiny black velvet box. She quirked her eyebrow at it and slowly opened the box. inside was a garnet necklace. "Oh my God, Baby. Thank you." She leaned towards Newt and kissed his cheek. "Love you," 

"Love you too," Newton said, his face going red. "Alright my turn!" 

The three librarians sat around the fireplace, Aziraphale wearing a new sweater from Newt and a bracelet that had rosemary encased in resin 'to keep away dark spirits', while Newton had a new typewriter at his feet from Aziraphale and a very badly knitted scarf from Anathema, and Anathema was curled up against Newt's side. There was Christmas music playing over the radio that sat on the mantle, a string quartet rendition of Good King Wenceslas if Aziraphale's memory served, and the whole library smelled like the cookies he put in the breakroom toaster oven. As office christmas parties go this felt really nice. 

They shared stories over cookies and hot cocoa, at some point Newton brought out some homemade eggnog, which was really more rum than eggnog. The three enjoyed the eggnog a little too much, and got quite drunk, resulting in the need for Anathema and Newton to hold each other up as the walked home, and Aziraphale to decide to stay at the library for the night. He began to shut off lights and lock up, but when he got to the front door he saw Crowley pacing just outside, soaking wet from the rain. He pushed open the door, making Crowley jump.

"Crowley? W-w-what are you doing out here?" Aziraphale asked as he leaned against the doorway for balance. Crowley quickly pushed them both inside. "Oh hellooo," Aziraphale laughed at their close proximity, his cheeks already flushed from the alcohol became a little bit redder. 

"Hey Angel, I wanted to assk you sssomething," Crowley started.

"Since whendo you callme Angel?" He laughed again, and wow did Crowley always smell this nice. "Hey, do you always smell this nice?" 

"Are you drunk?" Crowley got their answer in the form of Aziraphale collapsing into his arms in a fit of sleepy giggles. 

"Mmmjust a bit." 

"Wow, okay. Let'ss get you inssside," Crowley lifted him up a little more and began to drag him back into the library. 

"Whaja-wha-w-," He stuttered into their shoulder. "You wanted to ask me somethin'?" 

"Yeah, but I wass hoping you would be sssober." They grunted, voice strained from focusing on carrying Aziraphale. 

"You never answer-," Hiccup. "answer my question." Drunken pouting shouldn't be that endearing. 

"Which one?" 

"Which one?" He repeated under his breath as if trying to comprehend what that meant. "OH YES! When you- er-The name- ANGEL!" It took a second for Crowley to translate that, but then they realized. 

"Oh um, I thought it wass a fitting nickname. Your name iss an angelic one and a you're sssoft and sssweet and Jesus Christ please sssay sssomething before I embarasss mysself more," 

"Psh that's very nice of you, but haveyou seen yourself?" They made it to the sofa where Crowley tried to gently lower a now slightly damp Aziraphale down. "Forfot-ff-for-forgot to lock the doors," That set off another fit of giggles. 

"Alright, gimme your keyss and I'll lock up, okay? Do you have a back room or sssomething ssso I can get you a glasss of water?" 

"You're all wet again. And cold. Why'd you go and do that? Is this go-gonna become a reglar thing?" He slurred. "Come on then, take off your coat and wet shoes." He tried to stand only to be pushed back down. 

"Aziraphale-," 

"Mmno Angel," 

"Angel, focuss okay? Give me your keyss." 

"You could be a criminal. Steal all my books." 

"I don't want your fucking bookss, Aziraphale!" This was becoming less endearing and more annoying. 

"Front pocket," 

"Thank you," They shucked off their wet coat, setting it on the leather seat by the fire place, and took the keys that were now in Aziraphale's hand. It was quite dark in the library, the only light coming from the fireplace, and as the librarian was barely conscious They took their glasses off too. They quickly locked the front doors, and went in search of a kitchenette. When they found it they poured a cup of water and then searched the drawers for a first aid kit. They found it in one of the bottom drawers and looked for some motrin. With medicine and water in hand they returned to a now half asleep Aziraphale. 

"Crowley, darling, lovely to see you again," He smiled, his voice rough and barely audible. He threw an arm over his eyes. "Too bright in here," 

"I locked the doorss. I need you to drink thiss water before you go to sssleep okay, Angel?" 

"Mmfine," He mumbled, blinding reaching for the cup. Crowley ignored him and kneeled down next to the sofa and gently held the glass to his lips. They were so focused on not spilling that they didn't notice when he lowered his arm to look at them. He gasped around the water which lead to him surging forward to cough and gag, spilling some on the both of them in the process. 

"I'm sssso ssssorry. Wasss I making you drink too fasst?" 

"Crowley, your eyes!" He said. Crowley reached up to to touch their glasses, only to immediately remember they were next to their coat. They felt a bit like crying right now. 

"Yeah I-," 

"They are so pretty, Crowley. You didn't tell me you had such pretty eyes." 

"what?" 

"Your eyes are absolutely gorgeous. Figures. rest of you is perfect, why would your eyes be different?" 

"You should ressst." This was too much for them. Aziraphale obediently laid his head down and in a few seconds was snoring. 

_ 

The next morning Aziraphale woke with a bad headache and a lot of confusion. He remembered little bits and pieces. OH GOD! Crowley was there. Crowley saw him drunk. Crowley locked up for him. He might die from the thought of it, that is, if this headache didn't kill him first. He then noticed a glass of water, two pills, and a note. He quickly reached for the pills and water, drinking the water as fast as he could, before looking at the note. 

Aziraphale, 

So sorry to have taken up more of your time. I hope you feel well today. Do be careful with alcohol in the future, you get quite giggly. 

-C 

Aziraphale felt both embarassment and fondness at the note. He looked at his watch, remembering that he had a business to run, and upon the realization that he had an hour until opening decided to run home. 

_ 

The library was closed from Christmas eve through January second, so that Aziraphale's employees could celebrate, but also so he could just take some time off to rest. He wasn't close with his family anymore, so he had no one to celebrate with. Most places in town were closed, so he spent his time at home. Soon it was time to get back to work, and then January flew by, and before he knew it, it was the second week of February. Things had gotten a little busier, and Aziraphale had been spending more time secluded from the world. He let Anathema and Newton do all the work up front, while he kept in the back, cataloging, sorting, cleaning, and budgeting. 

With the New Year came people, the exact same fifty people every year give or take, deciding they should read more. This meant that His librarians were kept busy all the time. This also meant that he wasn't surprised when he heard someone ringing the service bell. He quickly walked out from the backroom to help. The person ringing the bell happened to be the very same person that haunted his dreams every night. 

"Hello, Crowley! No need to ring so much." He said, pulling it across the desk and out of their grasp. 

"Hello, Angel. Been awhile." And it had, but Aziraphale kept busy and definitely did not feel embarrassed about being drunk in front Crowley, not even a little. Nope. No way. 

"Hello, Crowley, how've you been?" 

"Been doing alright, better lately though," He was smiling, but not as carefree as Aziraphale was used to seeing. How odd. 

"Well I'm glad, is there something I can help you find?" 

"Oh ummm-," Crowley seemed very off. "Cats! I need to know about the classifications of lesser and greater cats!" 

"Of course, follow me," 

Aziraphale watched Crowley leave, a strange twisty feeling in his stomach. 

"Are you ever going to ask them out?" Anathema asked him, one perfect eyebrow arched in question. 

"What?" He replied in genuine confusion. "I just find them to be good company." 

"Good company? Is that what they called it in your day?" She laughed. 

"Miss Device, I can't imagine what you are implying?" And maybe he was trying to be a little shit. 

"Yeah okay whatever."


	2. A very tragic gay time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley moves into a new town and immediately finds themself falling for an adorable librarian

Crowley didn't know what they expected when they moved, but they were pleasantly surprised when the first location they drove past was a library with a pride flag hanging in the window. Hopefully that meant the town would be friendly to their particular sense of style. They made a mental note to visit it as soon as possible. 

Settling in was easy enough, they didn't own much, and they would rather explore the town than unpack anyway. There was lovely little cafe two blocks from them, so they decided to start there. The cafe was lovely, very old fashioned(gaudy) with it's pink striped wallpaper and floral cushions, and it smelled like coffee and sweets. The place was mostly empty, a young couple was sitting in a corner, a young girl was working the register and an older gentleman was reading the paper near the front. As They walked to the counter they could feel the older gentleman watching their every step. Figures. They got their hopes up a little too soon. Crowley was used to this kind of attention. As a child they never felt like a boy, but then after trying on the label, didn't particularly feel like a girl either and the experimentation with their gender presentation had gotten them a lot of looks.

They ordered and left, not particularly feeling like being stared at like an exotic animal. Who knows how safe it would be to stay. As they walked through the town they caught more stares. They supposed that was fitting. Crowley knew before moving here that it was a small town and held small town values. The library gave him hope though, like maybe there was some open minded people here. 

_ 

Three days after moving in to his tiny cottage, he(he was feeling rather masculine today) decided that he should see the library. He had been unpacking almost non stop since moving, so the library had been put to the back of his mind. 

He decided on a subtle look. Jeans, a nice button up, and a pair of heels. He looked in the mirror and decided it wasn't quite provocative enough. He looked at his shirt and quickly undid half the buttons. Almost there. He let down his hair, letting it fall around his shoulders. After deciding that he looked fine, he left. He didn't care for walking, not with his chronic hip pain, and definitely not in Armani heels, so he started up his car. 

After parking, he went inside the library, and had a proper look around. It looked quite a bit like an old house that had been turned into a library, although the front was mostly windows. His shoes clicked against the wood floor, as he looked around. Right inside, was a large display of books behind a glass door. Fascinating. The whole place smelled like leather and old paper with something spicier just underneath. Yes he would like this place quite a bit. 

He walked around and thought they might have some more obscure works, so he decided to look for a librarian. A woman was behind the front counter, sorting through paper work and there was a door behind her which he could see lead to a break room area. She looked like she was busy so he would circle back to her. He looked around a bit more, enjoying the warm home-like atmosphere of the place. Plush velvet furniture sat in nearly every available corner, and the almost messy nature of the placement of bookshelves and the books themselves, it all felt cozy in a way he couldn't describe. 

He thought about that glass display and went to go look at it. In front of the display was quite possibly the most adorable man he had ever seen. The man wasn't short, but definitely shorter than Crowley, and he had a mess of white curls on his head, and his nose could only be described as 'cute'. The man wore a very old fashioned suit in a light beige color, a pastel blue shirt under his waistcoat, and patterned blue bowtie. Crowley wasn't sure he believed in love at first sight, but seeing that man, he was wondering about it. Without really thinking about it, he approached the man, and tapped his shoulder. The man turned towards him and holy shit he was really beautiful. 

"Oh hello!" And now the man was giving him a polite smile and now Crowley definitely believed in love at first sight. He had to swallow down the urge to confess his love right then. What was wrong with him? The man was still talking and Crowley responded and then they were wandering through the library again. 

The library had a very outdated filing system that made Crowley smile to himself. Of course they wouldn't have an electronic system. This beautiful man didn't look like he would use a computer if he could help it. 

"I'm-a Crowley. Just by the way." He moved from one foot to the other as he watched the librarian look through the drawer. "I-uh, just moved here." 

"Oh yes, the man said distractedly. "I've noticed." Oh had he? Crowley tried to remember seeing him in town. He definitely would have remembered him. "everyone has been talking about you." Very interesting. 

"Really? What's being said about me?" He couldn't help smiling. He always enjoyed a little drama. It's one of the things he enjoyed about his fashion choices. 

"Well, Mister Shadwell, the man who runs the military surplus store on my walk over here, he thinks you are some kind of devil worshiper." The man looked up at him and smiled in a way that made his chest feel tight. "Oh and my neighbor mentioned something about someone trying to open up a brothel. And one of my librarians thinks you are some ethereal thing. You should hear what he was telling me earlier." 

"Oh so just the facts then," Crowley laughed in response. "People round here sure do like to talk. I've barely just moved." 

"Well yes, small town. Everyone likes to gossip." The man stood up, getting closer, and the spicy smell that was present all through the library was clearly this man's cologne. It made Crowley want to bury his nose against him and wrap himself in it. "And you don't look like the ideal citizen." What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Crowley asked. "Oh you know, prim, proper, and completely without any opinions of your own." The man looked him up and down. "Doesn't dress outside the binary." Oh. Shit. Was this man implying what Crowley thought he was implying? He felt a little sick at the thought. 

"I thought this was a more inclusive space?" He tried not to sound so upset. He wasn't very good at it. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean I cared about the gender binary, but not fitting into it makes people talk around here. I certainly got my fair share of it when I moved here." Okay Crowley felt less sick, a little relieved, and very confused. The man started walking again and Crowley followed closely, his mind reeling. He normally prided himself on his gaydar, but he was struggling to get any kind of read on this man. He was lead to the the front desk, where the man started talking to the woman behind it and then left. He watched the man walk away, helpless in the way his eyes lingered on that very round ass. 

"Hey so celtic history?" The woman asked, startling him out of his booty-induced trance. He was surprised by her accent. 

"Are you american?" He asked. 

"I'm afraid so. Please don't ask me about american politics. Everyone usually does. It makes me very ill to even think about." 

"I bet. Pretty messy all that. I'm Crowley by the way." 

"Anathema. I go by she and her pronouns." She said casually, gathering the cards the man had left with her. The introduction of pronouns made him very happy. 

"I use they/them, but I'm okay with whatever pronouns people assume I am based off of how I present." She nodded, without any kind of malice. He liked her already. 

_ 

Crowley really did enjoy stormy weather, something he always loved about Britain was the weather. He had traveled the entire country, always loved that no matter where he was it was rainy every other day. He liked the drama of raincoats and boots. This little town looked beautiful when it rained, he found, as he walked through the streets. It wasn't coming down too hard, just a light mist in the air and a nice brisk wind, so he thought a stroll might be nice. Explore a bit. 

The town had only one bar it seemed, not surprising at all, and it just so happened to be two blocks from his house. It was a quiet evening and the sun was going down so he decided, why not? He slipped into a silk camisole, leather pants, and some doc martens, and decided he might want to get laid tonight. His mind briefly went to the librarian and how he might look on Crowley's silk bedsheets, but he shook off the thought. The librarian didn't look like the type to go to a bar and go home with strangers. He didn't even know the man's name. 

The place was quite busy, but Crowley had no issue finding a seat at the bar. He sat down and the bartender was immediately in front of him. She was tall and beautiful, dark skin and a impressive afro, and she looked about college age.

"Hey, you're new," She remarked. 

"Yeah, just moved." 

"You got a name stranger, or will I have to call you beautiful stranger who wears glasses indoors?" 

"Most call me Crowley, but beautiful stranger works too," 

"Alright, Crowley, what can I get?" She leaned closer, flirtatious, but only in the way most staff were when wanting a good tip. He could appreciate that, she was too young for his taste any way. 

"Let me have some of your finest whiskey." He asked, looking around to see if anyone looked particularly like his type. Well, that gentleman in the corner certainly did. He was tall, with salt and pepper hair trimmed and styled very neatly, and wearing all grey. He was definitely Crowley's type. The dictionary definition of sexy. 

"You wouldn't like him." The bartender said as she set his drink in front of him. "That man, Gabriel, real dickhead." She left right after saying that, quick to go serve another customer. Crowley could see how Gabriel could be a dickhead, but he also looked like he knew how to give someone a good night and know when to leave in the morning. The bartender was back with one eyebrow raised. "Seriously, he's a prick. When the gentleman who owns the library came by once Gabriel-," She stopped talking looking over Crowley's shoulder. 

"Hello." Crowley heard right behind him. He turned around to find Gabriel there, giving him what can only be described as a hungry smile. "Don't believe we've met. I'm Gabriel." He held out his hand. 

"Crowley. pleasure to meet you." He replied, glancing back only to find that the bartender had once again disappeared. "You're american it sounds like. How interesting." 

"Yeah, I'm here to look after some business, but I'm originally from St. Louis." He moved in closer. His voice was just as sexy as the rest of him, Crowley thought. "What about you?" 

"Oh yeah, moved here for a little change of scenery. Seems like a lovely town." Crowley told him, taking a drink. "I find it easier to work if I'm in a new location. Helps from getting horribly bored you know." 

"Oh? What do you do for work?" Gabriel asked, leaning in to rest an elbow on the counter. 

"I write erotica for a living." Crowley said plainly, not ashamed at all, but Gabriel seemed intrigued. 

"Seriously?" He asked. "What kind?" 

"Nothing too crazy. Mostly gay stuff and some BDSM. A little voyeurism. You know entry level stuff really." 

"Hmm, and are you into all that?" Gabriel asked, his voice getting deeper. Okay Crowley was enjoying this. 

"Only the gay stuff. Other stuff just isn't for me, but I enjoy reading it." Crowley leaned closer. "What about you? Hear something you might like?" 

"Oh I definitely did." Gabriel was kissing him. Hungry and aggressive in the way Crowley thought he would and yes this would certainly work. Despite what that woman said Crowley expected to really enjoy this. He was an adult and he could have wild fun one night stands with whoever he wanted. He pulled back and got ready to pay for his drink and drag this beautiful man back to his place when Gabriel started talking again. "I wanna get you out of those ridiculous clothes."He mumbled against his ear. "Hanging off you like that. You're so-," Okay, Crowley was not into humiliation, which seemed to be where this was going. "You look like a fucking fa-,"

"Gabriel, please shut up." Crowley growled, trying to pull him into another kiss, hoping this would still end with him getting laid. Gabriel backed up a bit. 

"Excuse you." He said quite loudly. "You can't speak to me like that!" Oh god, was he going to make a scene? "I was being nice by paying you any attention, you desperate whore!" He huffed, straightening his coat and strutting off. 

"What the absolute fuck just happened?" Crowley asked himself. The bartender was back again looking rather smug, pouring him another drink. 

"I feel like a 'told you so' is in order." She laughed. "He has pulled that bullshit with three other people. He's pretty so people will talk to him, than he inevitably says something dumb. They say what the hell. He gets all self righteous and storms off. I wonder if he's ever actually gotten his dick wet when his masculinity is so fragile." 

"Well thank you for the warning I suppose." He laughed sadly, throwing back the rest of his drink, letting it burn in his throat. "I feel rather exhausted after that. Not really in the mood anymore if I'm honest." He threw the money down and left, leaving a rather large tip. 

The walk home helped him clear his head until he saw that man. The librarian joined by two other men, an older gentleman and a young man. They seemed to be assisting the older man home while he loudly grumbled. Crowley couldn't make out what he was saying but whatever he said made the librarian and the younger man start laughing. And wow ok. The librarian had an amazing laugh. And a beautiful smile. He shook his head and ran back home. It had been a good night after all.

_ 

They snuck into the library, working up the courage to ask for a name to give the librarian and maybe, just maybe a date. They spent an hour pinning their red hair up, making it into a perfectly styled bun with a few curls pulled out to frame their face. They carefully selected their sexiest pair of ripped jeans, that complimented their ass nicely. A nice button up and a black coat with the beautiful golden embroidery all down one sleeve. They were ready. 

The man was not at the desk when they arrived so the librarian at the desk, the same young man from the other night, helped them. They asked for cookbooks, an excuse really, as they didn't know how to say 'I'm not looking for books just a beautiful blond man who I think might be my soulmate'. The kid (He introduced himself as Newton) was quite helpful though, and they found themself grabbing a few cookbooks. Newton said he had to leave halfway through a chat about indian cuisine and Crowley decided they should go too, and they were pleasantly surprised to see the man they wanted at the desk. They straightened up and sauntered over, but the man didn't look up. They tapped the desk to get his attention, and he finally looked up. 

"I'd like to check out please." They said, placing the books down. They tried to give a friendly smile, but it felt awkward. 

"Yes, Of course. Let's see," 

_ 

Aziraphale. 

His name was Aziraphale. Of course the man who looked like an angel would be named like one too. He had to. 

Crowley certainly had an issue on her hands. She looked into her mirror as she applied her lipstick, thinking about how close she came to asking him out. She had nearly done it and then that american women (And why were there so many damn americans here?) had interrupted. 

Crowley groaned. She was being stupid. To be so hung up on a man she hardly knew. It was silly and she was silly. 

She had started writing again, working on a novella that her publisher asked for, and she should be focusing on that instead. She wouldn't, but she definitely should. Maybe a walk about town would help clear her mind. 

She was a little bit peckish so she went to the bakery, still enjoying the cool weather. 

_ 

They were still blushing. It had been a long week for Crowley. They sent in their first chapter to their editor, bought Aziraphale baked goods and successfully flirted with him. 

They laid in bed, thinking about that soft shy smile Aziraphale gave them when they waved at him in the library earlier that day. They hadn't even spoken, just a little wave before they left. They felt silly again. 

They were a full grown adult and here they were sitting in bed thinking about a cute guy like they were still in high school. They tossed around in bed for awhile, still blushing and giggling until they finally fell asleep. 

_ 

November was nearly over and Crowley decided they would try again to win the heart of Aziraphale. They had done some research (research meaning asking Anathema) and learned that the angel enjoyed hot cocoa and decided to bring him some. The problem was that the English weather Crowley loved only seemed to get more English as it were. It was pouring. The wind was unforgiving. Crowley pressed on though, despite his delicately styled hair and perfect makeup being ruined by the rain. He arrived at the library, soaked and cold. 

They had really hoped that Aziraphale would be happy only to find out that he was quite serious about his books. After getting a thorough tongue lashing, they paid their debts, and it seemed Aziraphale became a little more sympathetic to their current state. They apologized once again, feeling as if they once again mucked up their love confession. They wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep off their embarrassment. Then finally they offered the cocoa to Aziraphale, feeling a little more confident when the man's eyes lit up. 

"If you got cocoa, why didn't you just stay at the cafe to keep warm?" And he was tilting his head in the most endearing way too. 

"Simple." Crowley said proudly taking their cup. "I wouldn't be able to bring you yours." And that should get the point across, shouldn't it? 

The rest of the evening was so nice. They had a little chat about gender identity that made Crowley very happy, and Aziraphale didn't press on too much about their eyes. He dosed by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket that smelled of old paper and cologne, and listened to Aziraphale talk. This was bliss. 

_

Crowley was embarrassed. He hadn't been avoiding the library on purpose, he was just focused on his work. His publisher wanted the first six chapters by March, and wasn't that a ridiculous request? He had kept busy. He felt sillier as he wrote though. The love interest taking on the qualities of an older gentleman who, by day, seemed sweet and gentle, but at night he was rough and dominant. Reading his drafts made him blush as he realized the fictional man, Andrew Felton who owned a bookshop and liked patterned bowties and never styled his messy blond curls, had an unmistakable resemblance to Crowley's own love interest. It wasn't on purpose. It just sort of happened.

His works surrounding light BDSM (he was not comfortable with writing anything too intense) sold the best, and he had already outlined the story to center around a young man meeting an older business man. It just happened that he started projecting his infatuation on to it now too. It was ridiculous. He had to stop writing for two whole days after reviewing the chapter he wrote where the young man runs into the older one while the older one is drunk. When he came back to it he deleted the whole scene and rewrote it to be more sexual and less like the soft sweet encounter he had only two months prior. He felt absolutely ridiculous when he read how Andrew complimented the young man's eyes. He had to delete nearly a whole chapter.

Maybe writing this whole goddamned book was a mistake in the first place. He enjoyed writing and he enjoyed writing erotica to a certain extent. Queer Erotica was definitely lucrative, but he was often chastised by his editor for making his work more soppy romance than sex. He liked romance. He enjoyed sex sure, but he could live without it. He itched for romance though. And with how well his stories sold, his readers enjoyed it too. But this book was feeling too personal now. he never had a special connection with his work before; he made it filthy and fun and delicious, but it was never personal. But he supposed he had never started writing while being madly in love with someone and now he was stuck writing fantasies of a significantly less younger than before protagonist falling for a beautiful blond man, and then having to rewrite it to less mirror real life. 

He was a mess. 

_

It was valentines day. Crowley was being stupid and they knew it. They sent flowers to the library, ordered them two weeks ahead of time, and they didn't even leave their name. Aziraphale was smart. He would know who sent them and probably throw them away. Crowley told themself this near twenty times and still ended up placing the order online. Right after finishing the payment, they shut their laptop and threw themself into their pillows to wallow in their own self pity. 

They should have at least attached their name and number to it. Should have gone all the way and made it known that they were interested. Stupid. They needed to distract the selves otherwise they would sit around all day worrying about it. 

The cafe wasn't very busy as most people were at work, but Crowley did notice Anathema and Newton grabbing coffee. They also noticed they both had blue roses tucked into their glasses. They knew those roses, they had specially ordered them. They were more than a little confused. As They stared, Anathema turned and spotted them, grabbed Newton's hand, and walked over. 

"Crowley, you old romantic, it's been too long. How are you?" She greeted, smiling wide. 

"I've been better, but I've also definitely been worse. How've you all been?" They responded, ignoring the 'Old Romantic' comment. 

"Just ask what you mean," Newt mumbled. Crowley lifted an eyebrow. 

"What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that Aziraphale loved the roses you sent. He thought they were- what did he say?" She turned to Newton. 

"'Absolutely enchanting' I believe." 

"Yes, that was it. He was blushing all morning. He gave Newton and I one each and put them in a vase in the breakroom. I don't think I've ever seen him smile that much." Anathema looked very pleased with herself. "Kind of rude to not leave your name with the bouquet though. He's been pretending as if he doesn't know who it's from." 

"I-uh-shit-I didn't mean to-," 

"To what? Send him a lovely bouquet of roses? Was that an accident?" She was too smug. 

"No, obviously I meant to send those, but I didn't think he was interested so it was an impulsive gesture that I have regretted since the day I made the purchase. It was rude and presumptuous to have sent them, knowing that he wasn't interested." Crowley swallowed, looking down to avoid the piercing gaze that Anathema was sending them. 

"Where did you get the idea that he wasn't interested? He's obsessed with you." Newton said, earning a jab in the ribs from his girlfriend. 

"I've attempted to ask him out a few times and he's always turned me down so I think it is safe to say that he is not interested." 

"You are both idiots." And then Anathema was pulling them out of the cafe and they didn't even get any coffee out of it. Anathema pulled Crowley through the streets(Newton was following of course), not letting them get a single word in, until all three of them got to the library. She held firmly to their sleeve and brought them right to the front desk, ringing the bell for service very, very aggressively. 

"Oh dear, I'm coming! I'm coming!" Aziraphale called from behind the door. He walked through it pulling a cart of books with him. "Ana, dear, I didn't realize you returned. Is everything alright?" He asked, having not turned around yet. 

"Oh yes! Everything is just peachy, but I'm afraid we didn't get your tea." She said with a wicked smile across her face. 

"That's quite alright. I'll make some in the kitchen later." He was still pulling the cart, maneuvering it through the desk area. 

"I did bring back a little surprise though. Call it a valentine's gift." 

"Wha-," And then he did turn to look. His eyes became very, very round and his face turned very, very red. "Crowley!" Crowley, for their part, also turned quite red. 

"Now you didn't tell me that Crowley has already made a few passes at you. You absolute fool." Anathema said. Crowley took a few small steps away, thoroughly terrified. So did Newton. 

"What?" Aziraphale had, Crowley noticed, a blue rose tucked into his breast pocket. "They haven't-when have you- what?" 

"You are both disasters." Anathema declared, moving behind the desk to grab the cart. "Newt and I will go reshelve these and when we come back you will have this sorted." She pulled the cart from behind the desk, grabbed Newton and then disappeared behind the bookshelves. 

"What is she talking about, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked, eyes wide and brows creased. Crowley was glad for their glasses. They were already feeling too exposed. "You've never-," 

"Haven't I?" Crowley sounded shrill to their own ears. They cringed, wishing they could hide how heartbroken they were. "I tried to ask you out when I got those cookbooks. I bought you pastries. I brought you cocoa. You have a bouquet of roses I sent, for Chrissst's ssake!" Shit. Their lisp was coming out. This only happened when they were very nervous. 

"Oh." Aziraphale was looking down now and sniffling. Crowley might jump off a roof for making this beautiful man cry. "I thought you were being nice. You're very beautiful and I thought I was just reading into things." 

"Definitely not. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I'm not angry." Crowley took a few steps forward pulled Aziraphale from behind the desk. They wiped the tears from his cheek and gently held his face between their hands. "Aziraphale, would you grant me the absolute pleasure of going to dinner with you? A romantic dinner date, to be clear." 

"I would love nothing more." 

"FINALLY!" Anathema and Newton cheered from behind a bookshelf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I feel like my thirst for Jon Hamm jumped out a bit. Hope you all enjoyed!


	3. The date

Aziraphale was nervous. Actually more than nervous. He had changed his tie fifteen times already and his shirt at least thirty. He had settled on a suit he'd never had the confidence to wear before, but he felt like he needed to look special for this occasion. He was wearing a pastel blue suit with a bright white shirt underneath and a bow tie with little whales on it. He bought a new pair of shoes for this too, which made him feel quite silly, but when he looked in the mirror he thought he looked nice. 

He had also tamed his messy curls for this. Well sort of. They were a little less frizzy than normal. Anathema had offered to do his makeup for this, but he declined. He never cared for the feel of makeup on his skin and he might not have a chance to properly wash it off. He kept sending her and Newton Pictures every time he changed, hoping for approval. They both kept saying he looked fine, and he knew he did, but he also wanted everything to be perfect. Crowley was supposed to pick him up in an hour and he felt like he might call Anathema to say he changed his mind about the makeup. 

She wouldn't have answered though. She was a little busy. 

_ 

"You look gorgeous," Anathema said for what felt like the millionth time. Crowley rolled his eyes at her. 

"That doesn't help. He's perfect and I need to look equally perfect!" Crowley whined as he threw off another shirt. His bed had half his closet dumped on it and the pile was only getting bigger it seemed. 

"Crowley, you have to pick him up in an hour. you haven't even done your hair yet!" 

"Shit, you are absolutely right." He took a deep sigh and sat on the corner of his bed, sliding his hands into his own messy red curls, and praying that God would smite him where he stood. 

"How about you go do your hair and makeup while I find you something to wear. I'm very good at dressing other people I promise!" 

"If you insist." Despite his tone he practically ran to the bathroom. Anathema looked at the mess he made and got to work. She dug through the pile of clothes to find the black shirt he tried on earlier and she set it aside. After finding nothing of interest in the pile (And putting things up as she went) she went back to the closet to see what remained. Her eyes caught sight of something that would work perfectly, it was stunning and just the right amount of tacky. 

_ 

Aziraphale was burning a path into his floors. He couldn't help it. Crowley was supposed to arrive any minute now and Aziraphale was feeling sick. What if they changed their mind? What if they realized how out of Aziraphale's league they were? What if they felt pressured into asking him out? Oh god, he might puke- 

The doorbell rang. 

He ran to the door, took a deep breath, and opened up the door. All the air in is lungs rushed out. Before him stood the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Crowley was there, wearing a red paisley velvet suit with a black shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and holding a bouquet of red roses. their hair was perfectly curled, one side braided back so it laid across one shoulder. They were wearing smaller glasses than normal, showing off more cheekbone. Their makeup was immaculate. lips a deep red to match the suit, eyebrows sharp enough to cut, and it looked like their eyeshadow was blended down to the top of their cheekbones. 

"Crowley, you're absolutely gorgeous!" Aziraphale choked out, his throat becoming quite dry. "Let me get those in some water." He mumbled grabbing the bouquet. "Do come in," 

_ 

Crowley was going to die. After seeing that actual angel on earth stand before him looking like that- He wouldn't survive. The way that suit hugged Aziraphale's body, the color and cut of it, the way his ass looked as he walked away, it all made Crowley want cry. Not to mention his hair, normally a mess of frizzy white curls, was a neater styled mess. If Crowley wasn't already madly in love, he certainly was now. 

Aziraphale came back and pulled him into a loose embrace, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His entire mind had shut down. He couldn't even think straight, his brain not processing anything save for the single buzzing warmth that was left on his cheek after he was kissed. 

"Crowley, are you alright, dear?" Aziraphale asked quietly against his cheek. That only made matters worse. He gave a soft hum as reply, but apparently wasn't enough as Aziraphale stepped back, holding Crowley's shoulders. "We can reschedule if you aren't feeling w-," 

"No." He finally forced out. "I'm more than fine. Aziraphale, you are breathtaking." 

"Thank you." Aziraphale let go of his shoulders and stepped back, making Crowley feel rather cold. "Shall we go?" 

"Of courssse, Angel, your chariot awaitss." 

The restaurant was a bit of a drive away, just in the next town over, but Crowley thought that Aziraphale deserved something he might not have tried before. It was a lovely place, reservation only, but Crowley knew how to get in without one. As they sat down and were handed menus, Crowley tried desperately to think of what to say. Luckily he didn't have to. 

"This is lovely, Crowley, how did find this place?" Aziraphale asked while scanning the menu.

"Passed it by while I was moving. Thought you might like something not in town." 

"I appreciate that. Never been a fan of how nosy everyone is." Aziraphale casually reached across the table and grabbed his hand, making his whole body feel warm and fuzzy. "Are you sure you are alright? You look a little feverish." 

"Aziraphale, if I'm being honest, I'm terribly nervous to be here. You're stunning and sweet and a million other beautiful things. I'm afraid I don't feel good enough to be here." He was thankful for his glasses at this moment, glad that any emotion his deformed eyes showed was hidden. The hand holding his, tightened. 

"Dear, where did this come from? You are so good and smart and ridiculously sexy." Aziraphale set his menu down, the thought of dinner abandoned for the moment. "I have a confession to make as well. I was speaking to Anathema and she told me you were an author." Crowley looked away. He had mentioned his job twice to the girl, and it's not like he was ashamed, but he did want to bring it up at a later date after he had already charmed Aziraphale into being in love with him. 

"Well, yeah." 

"I've read some of your works. Very well written, and sappier than I would expect from the genre." 

"Oh? Well I only write what I enjoy reading, and I only really like the dirty stuff if there is emotion and romance involved." And wow this was easier than he thought it would be. Aziraphale wasn't judging him, he was just curious. Asking about his work like it was any other ordinary job. "Which have you read?" 

"Well, I've read the 'Divinity' trilogy and I just started reading 'To Fall From Your Grace'." 

"And you-like them? I mean it's all just porn." 

"It's more than just porn. The lead characters are amazing and the way you deal with queer identities and struggles is beautiful. Especially in relation to religion. I found myself crying in the last book of the 'Divinity' series addressed how Thomas felt towards his family and childhood abuse." 

"I appreciate that." He felt his eyes start to water. The nature of his books meant that he didn't do book signings and meeting fans. He wasn't used to this. He had, in the beginning of his career, looked through message boards and read fan comments, but these days he felt disconnected from his work. Hearing Aziraphale talk about it like this made his insides twist in the same way they did when he used to read the comments on those message boards. It certainly didn't help that the praise was coming from the man he was head over heels for. 

"You are truly remarkable, Crowley. I find myself amazed at everything I learn about you." And Crowley might have leaned across the table to kiss him right then, but the waitress had appeared to bring the wine and take their orders. 

_ 

Newt and Anathema were sitting in the park watching the ducks, rather Anathema was stretched across the bench, head in Newt's lap watching the ducks. Newton was simply looking at her. 

"Do you think they are going to get married one day?" He asked her, interrupting the silence. 

"I'm one hundred percent sure of it." She answered as if it was obvious. He supposed it was. 

"What do you think they are doing now?" 

"Probably blushing and not making eye contact because they are both very stupid." Anathema started laughing and Newton laughed with her. The sun was going down and Newton was struck with how much he adored the woman in front of him. He watched her laugh, her smile making him feel very warm inside, and he thought not for the first time that he wanted to spend his life with her. 

"Ana, how long have you known you loved me?" 

"Well we've been dating for nearly two years now." 

"That's not what I asked," 

"The first time I thought I loved you was right after you broke my phone. You were such a klutz and you were so apologetic." Anathema sat up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "What about you? When did you know you loved me?" 

"Not sure. I think it was on our second date. I told you I was trans and you didn't care. You shrugged and told me that you didn't really care. You've never told me I wasn't straight or that I wasn't really a man. You've never asked me my birth name or what my genitals looked like.. You just said you didn't care. I had never received that kind of nonchalance before." He took her hand in his, threaded their fingers together. He was waiting for their anniversary, but right now felt like the perfect time. "Ana I need to ask you something else." 

"Before you do I have a question for you." She pulled her hand away and slid off the bench. She was kneeling right in front of him and reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a small box and opened it to reveal a small silver band with two garnets on it. "Newton, dear, I have loved you for almost two years now. Lived with you for one. I want to wake up every day next to you. With every day that passes by your side I realize that I don't want to be anywhere else. I- shit- I love you so much. Please will you do me the honor of being my husband?" 

"Damn it Anathema, I wanted to ask you the same thing." He pulled out the ring he had for her. He was crying too, red cheeked and wobbly- lipped. 

"Shit, Baby, I guess this means we're getting married." Anathema said as she held out her hand so Newton could slide the ring on her finger. He did the same and then she got off the rough gravel and sat in his lap, covering him in kisses. 

_ 

Dinner was fantastic. Aziraphale had been nervous of course, but his nerves dissolved after a glass of wine. He had told a little lie early on in the evening, that is that he only read three and a half of Crowley's books. After overhearing Anathema tell Newt that Crowley was an author, he had relentlessly searched online to find their work. It was a little tricky as Crowley wrote under the pen name 'A.J. Neidr', but after some research (and once again listening in on his employees while they giggled about pornographic books) he found what he needed. He had read his way through seventy of the one hundred thirteen books Crowley had written. Although erotica wasn't his usual read, he had read a little of it in his youth, and generally found it lacking in the fantastic adventures and deep emotional connections he liked from books. But Crowley's work was simply amazing. Poetry really. every single book dealt with queerness and what it means to be in a sexual relationship as a queer person. All of the stories were fresh and original and the characters were interesting(Not at all the blank slate that was common in these sorts of novels). Sex, although the main theme and the end goal, was not used as a break between the story, but as a way to move it forward. The more Aziraphale read, the more he fell in love with the author. 

So it was a tiny little lie to say he only read three and a half of their books. He really did love the 'Divinity' trilogy and he was in the middle of 'To Fall from Your Grace'. Both stories had focused on religious themes and story lines involving abuse and pain caused by said themes. Aziraphale found that he cried quite a bit while reading them. 

Not to mention the pornographic aspects. Aziraphale identified as acespec, finding that he didn't really care if sex was a part of his relationships, but he had on occasion enjoyed written porn much better than live video porn. And he definitely found that the sex described by Crowley was very, very enjoyable. The second book of the 'Divinity' Trilogy started out with the main character, Thomas, masturbating. It was the very first scene, and it was sexy, but also realistic, and sweet. He found that porn written by Crowley might be his favorite kind.

He would never tell any of this to Crowley. 

Crowley was finishing up a slice of cheesecake, eating much quicker than Aziraphale. Crowley was telling him about music, ranting about Queen and Freddie Mercury. Aziraphale was feeling quite fond listening to it. Crowley talked with their hands, making big sweeping motions while talking about how inaccurate 'Bohemian Rhapsody' was. His fond staring was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. 

He pulled out his phone and saw that he had a text message from Anathema. Opening the message showed a picture of two hands. He was very confused for a second until he realized both hands were wearing rings. He got another message that was simply two champagne emojis. 

"Everything alright?" Crowley asked, leaning forward a little. 

"More than," Aziraphale replied, unable to hide the huge smile on his face. "Anathema and Newton are engaged!" He turned the phone around to show the picture to Crowley. 

"That is fantastic news," Crowley pushed their empty plate aside and leaned even closer. "They really are a charming pair, aren't they?" 

"They are. I love them both so much. I had a feeling from the beginning that this is what would happen." Aziraphale was getting a little misty eyed looking at the picture. He felt a kind of paternal affection for the two, and seeing them get this happy ending had him feeling very emotional. "I'm sorry. I interrupted you. What was that about the wonky timeline in regards to Freddie's diagnosis?" Crowley looked down for a second then back at Aziraphale. 

"I didn't think you- Well to fit into this weird little narrative they set up for the movie they made him reveal that he had AIDS two years before he was even diagnosed." Crowley started moving their hands again, and on an impulse Aziraphale grabbed both of their hands and pressed them to his lips. Crowley stopped talking. 

"Was that too forward of me?" 

"God no," Crowley whispered, leaning impossibly closer. Aziraphale wanted to see what was behind those glasses. "May I-," Then they were sitting back in their chair, looking away from Aziraphale. "Sorry, what was I saying?" 

"You were saying that the historical inaccuracies were made to force the entire life of Freddie Mercury to fit into a two hour film." Aziraphale let go of their hands. "Shall we go?" 

\- 

Crowley was feeling off kilter. he wanted to know everything about Azirphale, but he also wanted to sit in his lap and press a thousand kisses to that sweet smile. 

They left the restaurant, and on the walk to the car Aziraphale held his hand. Once they were in the car, he did it again. Laced their fingers together with a quick kiss to the back of his hand. The drive back made him antsy and a little scared. He wanted to do everything and be everything for Aziraphale, but he was terrified. He barely spoke as he drove back into town, listening to that soft sweet angel humming to the music on the radio. He pulled up to Aziraphale's house, parked, and went around to open the door for his date. 

Aziraphale stepped out of the car and stood right in front of him, standing on the curb so they could be eye level. "Come inside?" He whispered, so close, not close enough. 

"Of course, Angel." 

"Can I see your eyes?" He asked, reaching for the sunglasses. It was dark out now and it was a little difficult to see, but Crowley was scared. "I won't make you do anything that you aren't comfortable with." 

"No, it's okay." Crowley reached up and pulled the glasses off, but kept his eyes firmly shut. "Just- please don't be scared." He felt warm soft hands on his cheeks. 

"I could never be scared, Dearest." 

"Okay." And then he was looking at Aziraphale. Really looking. His face was illuminated by the street light, and without the dark grey of the glasses he looked so much brighter. Almost blinding in his beauty. There wasn't any fear or disgust in Aziraphale's eyes. Just raw affection. 

"They are breathtaking, just like the rest of you." And how do you even respond to that with anything less than firmly kissing the man who just said it? 

His angel's lips were soft and warm and so fucking sweet. He tasted of red wine and cheesecake.

"Please come inside. I have a some vintage wine if you want." 

"I don't want a hookup." Crowley stepped on to the curb, placing his hands on Aziraphale's hips. "I've fallen for you, Angel, and I don't want to seem 'forward' as you said before, but I don't want this to be a one time thing. I don't want to assume anything, but I don't want-," 

"I was only offering wine, Dear." Aziraphale pressed two more kisses to his lips. "I'm going to ask again. Would you like to come in?" 

"I want nothing more." 

They did sleep together, in the most literal meaning. At some point in the night, they had taken off the nice suits, Aziraphale had given him a spare set of pajamas, and they laid down. Aziraphale wrapped around him, kept him warm. He hadn't slept that well in a long time. 

The next morning was strange. Crowley woke in a strange bed, sleep still clinging to his mind, making his memory a little fuzzy. He looked around. The pale blue sheets were so soft and the duvet was a big wool thing, warm and cozy. He looked to the nightstand, stacked with books and two half melted candles, in search of a clock. Of course, he was in Aziraphale's bed, and Aziraphale had books covering every surface of his room. Crowley was in a night shirt, one of those made of cotton that button up in the front, and a little bit too big, reaching to his mid thigh. It smelled spicy, exactly like Aziraphale's cologne. He wanted to wrap himself in it. 

With a sigh he rolled out of bed, found his glasses, and fished his phone out of his pile of clothes. It was eleven thirty, practically half the day was gone, and he was wondering where Aziraphale was. He wandered through the house, hearing talking. He followed the sound all the way to the front door where Aziraphale appeared to be talking to someone on the porch, but his body was blocking Crowley's view of who. He walked closer and realized he recognized the other voice.

"All I'm saying is-," Gabriel attempted, in the very same condescending tone he used on Crowley. 

"I understand what you're saying, Gabriel. I just don't care. It's not happening." Aziraphale said with firmness and a kind of strange authoritative undertone. 

"What is going on, Angel?" Crowley finally asked, placing his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder. 

"Crawley?" Gabriel looked at him, a strange glint in his eye. 

'It's Crowley actually." 

"And you've gotten Azira-," 

"Shut up." Aziraphale didn't wait for a reply as he shut the door. 

"What was that about?" Crowley asked, wrapping his arms around his angel's waist. 

"I'll explain some other time. Are you hungry? I've made pancakes." Aziraphale pulled one of Crowley's hands up so he could kiss it before turning to press a kiss to his lips. 

"Pancakes sound lovely." 

\- 

Six weeks had past and Aziraphale had never felt happier. Crowley would come in to the library every now and again, sometimes to pick him up and take him to dinner, sometimes to bring him tea or lunch, and sometimes just to sit in a corner and look pretty while he watched his angel work. On Fridays, when the library was closed, Aziraphale often found himself at the movies with Crowley, or walking in the park with Crowley, or going on little road trips to museums with Crowley. He found that he never tired of their company, and it seemed Crowley felt the same. 

Anathema had made a comment about Aziraphale working too much and Crowley had made a comment on wishing that he could spend more time with them, so Aziraphale had called a meeting with a Anathema and they decided that she could definitely run the library herself one day a week so that he could have two days off. She and Newt got two days off during the week so it only seemed fair to her that she give her boss the same opportunity. Crowley had been delighted and asked if he wanted to come over to their place to watch a movie that weekend and maybe spend the night. They hadn't slept together since their first date, it just hadn't happened, but Aziraphale wanted to desperately to fall asleep in Crowley's arms again. 

He was in love. He loved Crowley. He hadn't said it aloud yet, but he thought it nearly every time he looked at Crowley. They had defined their relationship a week and a half after their first date, and thank god because introducing Crowley as his partner felt really nice, but he was a little too scared to bring it up first. He was aware that they were moving a little fast. He had no intentions of slowing down. 

This was his first Saturday off and he was currently waiting for Crowley to meet him for lunch. He was going to tell Crowley he loved him. He had showed up to the diner a little early, which did not help how anxious he was, and the waitress kept eyeing him. He had ordered the drinks already, a cola for him and a cup of black coffee for his date. He was fidgeting, Crowley had another five minutes to be here. Crowley was always punctual. 

Aziraphale had brought with him his old copy of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' and had been reading to keep from getting fidgety. Finally out of the corner of his eye he saw someone slide into the seat across from him. He looked up, but his smile dropped when he saw Gabriel sitting there. 

"Hello, Aziraphale." Gabriel smiled a cruel little smile and took a sip of the coffee in front of him. "how have you been?" 

"Same as the last time I saw you." Aziraphale replied in a clipped tone. "That wasn't for you." 

"I'll buy you another. Just felt wasteful to let it sit and get cold." 

"Why are you here?" 

"You know why, Zira." 

"Not my name." 

"Your name is a mouthful. You can't expect people to say the whole thing." 

"I'd prefer you didn't speak to me at all." 

"Have you gained weight? You're looking a little softer around the edges." Gabriel took another slow sip of his stolen coffee. "I have to say I miss our little back and forth like this. I miss having a relationship with you." 

"I suppose that makes one of us. Why did you come here?" 

"What I just said. I want to be a part of your life, Aziraphale. I care, you know, about your life." Gabriel wasn't smiling anymore. He was making a rather tragic attempt to look sincere. "We all miss you. Mike was asking about you, she was worried about you." 

"I am very close to calling the police. Please stop bothering me. I have a date coming and I would prefer he not see you here." 

"Ooh is it the redhead?" Gabriel's cruel smile was back. "Has he told you that we've met before? Of course not. We met at a bar last year. He came onto me, but I obviously had to push him off. He was very insistent. It was pathetic." 

"You're so full of shit. To shame them for seeking out sex and companionship is disgusting. You are the pathetic one here." Aziraphale had nearly lost his appetite. "I love them. I don't particularly care if they have sought after sex before. I am not a jealous child, desperate to be the only one to have their attention. I know mommy didn't hug you enough Gabriel, but some of us have grown up." He grabbed his book and stood up. "I feel very sad for you. You criticize and push at everyone close to you and because you are so fucking alone, you are desperate to bring back the handful of people who have ever cared about you." 

"But you do care?" 

"Not anymore." And he walked out. Gabriel could pay for the drinks. 

He ran out of the diner only to bump into Crowley walking towards him. He quickly apologized, trying his best to not sound as upset as he was. 

"Angel, I'm so sorry I'm late. I was on the phone with my publisher-," 

"I'm not upset with you, my dear." Aziraphale said, grabbing their arm to walk away from the diner. "Just ran into Gabriel and I'd rather eat elsewhere." 

"Of course, Aziraphale." 

They went to Crowley's place and with few words, Aziraphale was guided into the kitchen where Crowley started cooking toad in a hole for lunch. Aziraphale was once again struck with how he loved his partner. Crowley set the plate down in front of him and sat in the seat next to his. 

"I don't want to push, but you looked so upset earlier, so maybe it would help to talk about it? About Gabriel?" 

"Okay." Aziraphale sighed and started to cut into the toast. "Gabriel is a distant cousin of mine from america and he kind of helped raise me. He is very religious and when I came out in my high school years he started being emotionally abusive. He had a very distant mother and he often took out his frustration on me. He would tell me that God would never love me and that I would eventually kill myself if I tried to continue the 'homosexual lifestyle'. My actual parents left me a rather large sum of money and I was able to move and leave all of that behind." He took a bite of toast and egg before continuing. "Gabriel came by and made himself home here about a year ago in an attempt to get some of the money I have inherited. He has tried to make me believe he cares about me, but I'm not sure he has ever thought of me as family." 

"Angel, I'm so sorry." Crowley placed a hand on his cheek to comfort him. 

"He showed up at the diner to once again try to isolate and manipulate me." 

"Aziraphale, I wish I had known this sooner. I would have kicked his ass when he was on your stoop." Crowley dropped their hand and looked down. "I do have a little confession to make. I have met Gabriel before. I nearly slept with him once a few months ago." 

"I know, Dearest, Gabriel told me so. I'm sure he changed the story a little however." 

"Oh really?" 

"Yeah, said you were throwing yourself at him, while he constantly rebuffed your advances." 

"Really now?" Crowley took off their glasses and tossed them down, and little satisfied smile on their lips. "He approached me, I thought he was kind of sexy, and then he opened his mouth. He nearly called me a fag and then I interrupted him. He got angry and left. The whole interaction was like ten minutes. He did kiss me though." 

"It doesn't matter, Crowley. I'm hoping that he'll give up soon as I have no intention of giving him either my money or my time. I have half a mind to get a restraining order." 

"Why haven't you already?" 

"Not sure really. He is family I guess." 

"No he isn't. All he wants from you is your money. Has he ever said he loved you?" 

"Well no-," 

"Has he ever shown interest in you or your life?" 

"Not reall-," 

"Does he make you feel bad or self conscious in way that makes you deep down want desperately for his approval?" 

"You are being ridiculous-!" 

"He isn't family then. He is a serial abuser. Get a restraining order or at the very least be less polite. He's a dickhead and he hasn't earned any kindnesses from you." 

"Can we change the subject, please?" 

"Of course, Aziraphale, I didn't mean to push you." Crowley took both of his shaking hands. "Finish eating and then we can watch some movies." 

They were curled together on Crowley's bed, a movie was playing in the background, although Aziraphale wasn't sure the name of the film as he was more occupied with covering Crowley's neck and shoulders with his lips. Crowley didn't seem to mind, the only acknowledgement of Aziraphale's activity being the tiny smile on their lips, but they did seem to be watching the film. Aziraphale started to pull at their collar to place his lips along their collarbone, nipping a little bit of pale skin enough to leave pink marks that would fade in an hour or so. Thin long fingers had started running up and down his back, tracing his vertebrae. He felt very content. Now was the time. 

"I love you." 

"I love you too, Angel," Crowley said, not paying him much mind until their brain caught up. The fingers stopped. "Wait what?" 

"Too late to take it back." Aziraphale laughed, a little nervous. Crowley was looking at him now with those lovely yellow eyes.

"I don't plan on it. I'm just a little surprised." 

"Surprised?" 

"Well, I just thought you'd want to wait a little longer or maybe hadn't thought that yet." 

"Crowley, I think I loved you when you were dripping all over my library back in November." And then he was kissing them and everything else seemed a little less important. 

_ 

Anathema and Newton had a summer wedding, not wanting to have to plan and stress over it for too long. It was a very small affair, close friends and family only. They walked down the aisle together, no giving away involved. Anathema wore a stunning seafoam green gown(She had expressed that pronouncing one's virginity was a very sexist tradition) and Newton wore a matching suit. Crowley had cried, Aziraphale had pretended to be exasperated but he was also a little choked up. Everything was picture perfect. 

During the reception as Crowley danced with Aziraphale, they thought, for the very first time, that maybe they wanted to have this with Aziraphale. They could see it now. A small outdoor ceremony with a few friends present as neither was close with their family. Aziraphale would probably wear a white tux and they would both have bouquets and their own written vows. They would probably have french food and a tiny reception. They'd slow dance like they were doing right now and They'd go to Ireland for their honeymoon and take pictures in old castles and Aziraphale would buy matching wool sweaters for the two of them. They'd roll their eyes but wear it constantly anyway. That was the dream. 

Aziraphale had layed his head on their shoulder while he hummed along to the playing, and Crowley wasn't sure he could handle how in love he was. 

Anathema threw her bouquet and it fell into Aziraphale's lap, leaving him blushing. She had thrown him a wink, which led him to believe it wasn't a coincidence. Crowley simply laughed. 

The night ended with Anathema and Newton leaving for their honeymoon. Aziraphale and Crowley stayed to help clean up and then drowsily climbed into Crowley's car so they could drive him home. It was a truly enchanting day, but Crowley really was exhausted and without thinking they drove back to their place. Aziraphale didn't even ask, he just followed Crowley inside, undressed and laid down against Crowley. 

"That was so lovely. I'm so happy for those too." He remarked against Crowley's bare chest. "I hope our wedding is just as nice." 

"It'll be much nicer. We'll have real flower arrangements." Crowley answered without a thought before falling asleep. 

They woke up four hours later, mind reeling as they realized what Aziraphale had been implying. It was comforting that Crowley wasn't the only one thinking of marriage. 

Aziraphale gave the new married couple two weeks off, and with a little tempting on Crowley's part, decided to close the library for that time period. They couldn't wait to spend these next two weeks with their future husband. 

_ 

It didn't really bother Crowley that they were now eight months into a relationship and they still hadn't had sex. It would be nice, sure, but it wasn't by any means a necessity. They did want to know if it was out of the question though. If Aziraphale wanted to wait for awhile or until marriage or even if he was asexual, Crowley wouldn't mind. They just needed to know. 

They were nearly finished with the first draft of their novella and despite it's intended purpose being porn, it had definitely come out more soft and romantic. Of the fifteen chapters only five contained graphic sex scenes. It felt weird to write sexual fantasies about a character that now was basically the same as his real life boyfriend. They wanted to put all the sickly sweet feelings they had to paper instead. Their editor wasn't happy. They had started spending more time at the library, but instead of watching their boyfriend work, they were furiously typing away to meet their new deadline. It felt almost like having a regular job to be working at strict hours like they had been, but Aziraphale had made a point to say that Crowley needed a break, so when he was done working so was Crowley. 

Crowley was thankful for this, if not for those boundaries they might not stop writing until they collapsed. They finished the draft rather quickly besides. The editing process seemed to be going the same way though. Crowley had honestly considered scrapping the whole thing and starting over, but that would certainly do him no favors. 

He had been spending more and more nights at Aziraphale's home, which helped with the whole working hours thing. It was nice actually, to wake up every morning in Aziraphale's arms, see him with a bedhead and sleep-flushed cheeks. This was the life. Crowley hadn't stopped thinking about marriage since the wedding and now it was getting harder to pull the thought from his brain. He needed to slow down, because proposing eight months into a relationship was asking for trouble. There was no way to gauge how Aziraphale felt on this either, and for all Crowley knew, he would politely decline. That didn't stop him from always carrying a ring in his pocket, a purchase he made during the summer when Anathema and Newton were still gone. It was silly and impulsive and constantly guiding his thoughts to proposal. With every moment that passed, every dinner date and brunch, he wanted more and more to ask. He had even started writing his proposal speech. 

\- 

Aziraphale was happy. He had never felt so happy. Gabriel's visa had run out, Anathema and Newton were happily married, and he had the most amazing partner. But Crowley was working hard to finish his book, and said that the editing process took a lot out of him, so he'd spent a lot of time in his own apartment. Aziraphale missed him. He missed him a lot. He had thought a lot about it and decided he would really, really like it if Crowley moved in with him. He had an extra key made, and seeing as they were supposed to go out tonight, he planned to ask him. 

Crowley had showed up to the Library and dragged him out, kissing him and telling him how much he missed him. It warmed his soul to hear. Aziraphale grabbed his hand to hold and guided them to the car.

"How is the editing going?" He asked, trying to not seem too fidgety. He wasn't being too successful

Crowley looked at him with a soft adoring look. "You know I think I'm nearly finished." 

"Really?" 

"Yes I think I should-," 

"Move in with me." Aziraphale blurted out, unable to wait another second. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I just wanted to- I mean-," 

"Angel, I'd love to move in with you. I don't have a lease or anything so I would love to." 

"I love you so much and I've missed you and I wanted to kiss you before going to sleep. I want to see your face when I wake up." Aziraphale kissed Crowley's hand before pulling them forward and pressing a few more kisses to their lips. "I love you," 

"I love you too." Crowley laughed with excitement. "We can start packing tomorrow if you like." 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. I didn't like it and kept messing with it, but I finally decided to post it. I hope you enjoyed.


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